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KATE 















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Kate 

and Other Poems 

BY 

sarah McKinney 



1924 

THE STRATFORD COMPANY 
Publishers 

Boston, Massachusetts 








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Copyright, 1925 

The STRATFORD CO., Publishers 
Boston, Mass. 


Printed in United States of America 


DEC 29 *24 

© Cl A 815 4 3 4 
^70 1 h 


With fondest love and a lifetime of 
appreciation, I offer these lines to my 
father and my mother. S. M. 

















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CONTENTS 


Page 

Kate.1 

Thanks ..71 

The Teacher.74 

Which ?.77 

Just One.79 

A Toast.82 

A Toast on Cheese.83 

A Toast on 4 4 Dates ”.84 







Kate 


S HE came as comes a breath of flowers in May. 
(Ah, well, I mind that beauteous summer 
day.) 

She wafted from her finger-tips, a kiss— 

This unspoiled, care-free, little village miss, 
Whose feet had skipped through barely two score 
years; 

Her eyes undimmed by aught of scorching tears, 
Looked into mine with roguish pent-up fun, 

As, laughing lightly, she exclaimed, “I’ve won!’’ 
And then she told me how she’d coaxed her 
father:— 

Alone, I fear me, to escape Kate’s bother — 
From rigid views to finally relent, 

And to her plans reluctantly consent, 

So Kate prepared with animated zest, 

To pay a visit to the talked-of West, 


[ 1 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

That place unrivaled, ’twas said, by any other, 
The home of Gerald, Kate’s handsome married 
brother. 

In less than three weeks from that very day, 

She started West to visit Santa Fe. 

She waved a “good-bye,” through the figured 
glass, 

As the coach she sat in passed the jolly mass, 

Of school-day friends who hated much to part 
With one whose place was warm in every heart. 

A few weeks later a nice long letter came, 
Confirming all we’d heard of the West’s storied 
fame, 

For its grand scenery and the balmy air, 

Which, Kate declared, was found no place but 
there. 

She dearly loved her brother’s pretty wife, 

The charming idol of Gerald’s quiet life. 

She made their home a cozy place of rest — 

This girl he’d met and married in the West. 

But dearer yet was darling baby Ted, 

And oh, such cunning things he did and said! 

A beauty, too, with Gerald’s eyes and hair, 

And Bose’s pleasant, laughter-loving air. 


[ 2 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

She ended, then her praises being done, 

By saying she was having “heaps and heaps” of 
fun. 

Each week brought with it, a long and breezy 
letter, 

And each one longer and ever sounding better, 
Nor did I realize how time did fly 
/Til six months passed since I kissed Kate good¬ 
bye. 

Then Mr. Martin received a loving note, 

That Gerald and his darling Rosie wrote, 

Begging that Kate might still prolong her stay, 
And though he wished, he did not answer, 
“Nay.” 

At Christmas, Gerald gave a fancy ball, 

And ’mong the belles, Kate Martin led them all, 
Then how her letters would ring with lively chaff, 
Which always caused us to indulge a laugh. 
But by and by it seemed I could detect, 

That somehow, all her merriment was rudely 
checked, 

And something very much like silent pain 
Would show all through her letters now and 
then, 


[3] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


I feared me, she had grown for home to pine — 
Had learned New Mexico was not “so very fine/’ 
Yet, why these moods, I could not well suppose, 
For surely she could leave whene’er she chose. 

A year soon passed as is the case in youth 
When hearts are filled with naught but trusting 
truth. 

Once young and thoughtless, living but the day, 
She now, alone, was treading life’s rough way. 
But soon-—a letter came — a pouring out of 
grief — 

But sorrow cut my darling’s missive brief. 

‘ f Poor Gerald is heart-broken, ” so it ran; 

‘ ‘ The very picture of a stricken man. 

His Rose, the flower he most does prize, 

Is fading daily, dying ’neath his eyes. 

The doctors say she cannot hope to live; 

With Autumn’s leaves, her life to God must 
give.” 

The letter ended with the best and most 
Condensed in lady’s always added post — 

‘ ‘ For you alone — no other eyes to see — 

My next and most important note shall be. 

For weeks, I’ve prayed and thought, and pond¬ 
ered well, 

If my own story I should also tell, 


[4] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

And so to you, my dear and trusted friend, 
The story of my double grief, I send. 


‘‘My dearest friend, my confidant, my Jo, 

The trust I give you, you will keep, I know, 

I have no one my grief — and joy — to share, 
(Poor Gerald is so weighted with his grief and 
care) 

For Rose is passing like a dream, away, 

Yet grows more patient and resigned each day. 
With half her patience I should be content 
And the sorrow ’round me I should not resent, 
But as it is, oh, Jo, that you were here 
To make me stronger with a word of cheer! 

One night before the lights were brought, 

Rose sat beside me and her hand sought 
Mine, in loving pressure, as she said to me, 

‘Dear sister, and yet more to be — 

A mother to my precious little babes, I ask, 
Dear one, that you perform the loving task, 

I shall not long be here to watch and guide, 

My little darlings, my maternal pride. 

My husband is a noble man, and kind; 

One with a great and loving heart and mind. 
His grief will be unbounded and sincere, 


[5] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


When first he learns his help-meet is not here, 
And years may pass ere he will be resigned, 

Or learn the secret which we all must find, 
Before a sorrow we can learn to bear, 

With patience and a passing by of care. 

I ask, dear Katherine, a promise from you now, 
A sincere promise, a solemn, earnest vow 

That you will stay and try to make his home 
Less gloomy and forsaken when I’m gone.’ 

II So, sitting there, the twilight turned to night, 
And Satan struggled in my heart with Right. 

It was so hard to say, ‘ I will be good 

And do my duty as I know I should. ’ 

For lately, Jo, my heart has found its mate, 

A fine, clean man who loves your wayward Kate. 
You will remember how, some months ago, 

I wrote so cheery and was all aglow 
About a picnic of the previous day, 

And then continued in my gushing way, 

To tell you how — a horrid bore for me — 

I spent the evening with a grave M. D. 

A man who bears himself with stately grace, 
And shows his calling in his noble face, 

Not handsome, but an honest, upright look, 
Betrays his virtues, as an open book. 


[6] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


His face is dark and so his eyes and hair, 

With threads of silver sprinkled here and there. 
His figure, tall and dignified — austere — 
Commands respect, and, at the same time, fear. 

‘ 1 1 met him often and all unaware 
I found, too late, that I had learned to care, 

As only those of loving nature can, 

For him, the grave, authentic learned man 
Of science; he had come one evening — just at 
close of day, 

(Short time before I had agreed to stay) 

And I remarked in pleased and happy way, 

‘I leave for home, just one week from today.’ 

He started slightly, rose as if to go, 

Turned facing me and said, while standing so, 
‘Miss Martin — Kate — the truth you now must 
know. 

Though I have kept my secret all my own, 

It seems to me you surely must have known 
By intuition, look, or other sign, 

Your life has grown to be a part of mine. 

I have not dared to think the tender flame 
Has stirred your heart at mention of my name, 
As has your own plain title, dearest Kate, 
Caused my true heart with love to verberate. 


[7] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


I have kept silent knowing how unfair, 

’Twould be, to ask of you a larger share 
Of love, than that which you would give a friend, 
And I have tried to think my love for you would 
end 

With your departure. For, argued I, while 
older than her years, 

’Tis folly e ’en to reason down my fears; 

She is so heart-free, careless, and so gay, 

She thinks of me as being old and gray. 

Yet often in the quiet would I start 
From dreams of home wherein you played a 
part — 

The part that ever has been woman’s sphere, 
Disbursing comfort with her loving cheer. 

And so, just now, at mention of your home, 

My heart rose up, with love, to claim its own. 
The home where I have pictured you as queen, 
Awaits your coming there to reign supreme. 

The throne upon which you can ever prove 
Yourself a queen, is my protecting love.’ 

Still standing there, his eyes with love aglow, 

He ended thus: ‘ My love, you cannot know 
How much your answer bears upon my life. 

I ask you plainly, Will you be my wife V 


[8] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

“I knew it, Jo, though I had not before 
Imagined such a treasure was in store 
For me. Ah yes, I knew it. Without one con¬ 
cession 

This man, so quiet, had the full possession 
Of my heart. And yet, despite my longing to 
say, ‘Yes/ 

The very love I bore him did suppress 
My words. I could not speak but merely dropped 
my head, 

The while he took my hand in his and said, 

‘I see, my dear, within your downcast eye, 

The very love which you would fain deny. 

Is it not so?’ ‘No/ answered I, ‘although my 
voice was low, 

My lips were dumb — because I love you so. ’ 

“ I’ve wondered since, if I may ever know 
Another moment when my heart shall glow 
With greater pleasure than was then my share, 
While standing, sheltered from the bright lights ’ 
glare, 

He clasped me gently and with loving tone, 
Breathed in my ear, those cherished words, ‘My 
own.’ 


[9] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


1 ‘ I need not tell yon how we sat and planned, 
Nor how his sincere words of love e ’er fanned 
That kindred flame that caused my heart to ring 
With echoes of the praises of its king. 

He spoke so nobly of his love, yet claimed 
Himself unworthy of the prize he’d gained 
In my return of confidence and trust. 

He would not listen to my condemnation 
Of my own faults, hut said the integration 
Of his soul was mine. 

“My dear friend, I have been so glad 
To tell you this and ease my sad 
Sore mind. For troubles greater than e’en you 
can know, 

Have closed around me as the waters, Jo. 

I want your counsel and your friend’s advice — 
For no friend is true until he pays the price 
Of friendship, by his help and aid 
In some such case as I have just conveyed 
To you. A friend, to be a friend in every phase, 
Must surely criticise as well as praise. 

I beg you, dear one, help me to the right, 

For sometimes, dear, it seems I cannot fight 
The tempter, but needs must yield 
Myself to love and the protecting shield, 


[10] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Of a great mind. But by my honor it can never 
be 

Since on that evening when Rose asked of me 
My care, in love for her and for my sorrowed 
brother, 

All else was wanting and the thought of other 
Promise did not stay my pledge. 

I vowed to stay and lend my feeble aid 
So long as Gerald needs it, and I said, 

‘Before my God, who knows our griefs and joys, 
I promise, Rose, to rear your precious boys 
As you would wish I should; ’ 

I pondered long on how to make it known 
To one whose coming I had justly grown 
To look for daily, as the only ray 
Of sunshine shed along our gloomy way. 


‘ ‘ He came next evening and at once detected 
The troubled spirit that my face reflected. 

I told him all. He was as one demented 
And would not credit I had thus consented, 
To take upon myself the place of mother 
To the little ones, and for my darling brother 
Try to make a home. 

He begged me then, the pledges to recall. 


[11] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


He pictured how these cares, that are not small 
Would weigh upon me. 

’Twas selfish e ’en to have a single thought, 

Of my own pleasure or of doing aught 
Save duty. 

‘ ‘ But then, the home, the love was all the more, 
A sore temptation than was it e’er before. 
Pleasures attend the attentions, fondness and 
cares of the lover, 

But blessings will e ’er greet the person who dares 
to he strong for another. 

I listened to his words yet still stood firm; 

My promise given, I would not dare to turn 
From those who need my care and consolation, 
Nor would I hear to any mitigation 
Of my vows. 

1 ‘ The doctor knew that I would soon be asked 
To fulfill my promise and perform my task. 

He reasoned first, and when he found no word 
He said could change me, with incense averred 
I did not love him; said I had no thought 
Of him or his o ’er-burdened lonely lot; 

I tried to reason, pacify, explain. 

He would not listen — my attempts were vain. 


[12] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


With ill-concealed and growing indignation, 

He re-asserted that no expiation 

Of future years could mend the breach, or prove 

I was not false to his devoted love. 

“And so he left me with the bitter dart 
To keep its vigil in my sorrowed heart. 

I have not seen him since, nor even heard, 
(Though I expected to receive some word, 

When he should think o’er his unkind assertion, 
And o ’er his thoughtless, undeserved desertion 
Of me in my hour of trial.) 

“Rose, wondering at his absence, asked me why 
For days agone he had not come anigh. 

I did not wish to wound her with the truth, 

So laughingly replied, ‘Forsooth, 

The doctor has, in paying off his calls, 

Found some fair maid whose charming way en¬ 
thralls 

Him more than do the ways of me! 

But, jest aside, and speaking seriously, 

I, too, have wondered why he does not come 
To make inquiries, or send someone 
To ask about you.’ 

This remiss position 


[ 13 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Eradicated Kose’s faint suspicion, 

That the doctor’s absence could be charged to me. 


“Dear Jo, I know that I shall grow resigned 
To God’s volition and shall shortly find 
A pleasure in my work and mission here. 

But you must help me with your letters, dear, 

I know, good friend, that you will feel for me, 
On reading this, a ready sympathy. 

Please write at length expressing all you feel— 
Your love—your censure—or your friendly zeal 
In this, my story. 

“It is growing late, 

And you are tiring of your loving — Kate. ’ ’ 


Long hours I sat and pondered o ’er her letter, 
Argued for and then against her cause. 
Condemned my friend’s reception of the fetter 
Then urged, “It is fulfilling God’s own laws.” 
And so I found myself the first time dreading 
To write to one whose love and fond affection 
Has been to me a ray of sunshine spreading 
Backward through my earliest recollection. 


[ 14 ] 




KATE, and Other Poems 

I knew not what to say, what word to offer, 
What counsel give, what trials mitigate; 

My love undying — my sympathy to proffer, 
’Twere little hope that such could animate 
My friend to feel her trials lighter, so I wrote: 


“Your letter, welcome always, always new, 

Has caused me grief and mixed my joy with 
pain. 

What can I do to help you, friend of childhood, 
Save tell my sympathies ? And that were vain, 

So certain are you of my love and pity 
In this great grief that has become your cross, 
But dear, your life will be the better for it; 
These trials will sift the perfect from the dross, 
And bye and bye, with prayer and abnegation, 
This awful grief will mellow to a calm 
Still longing, as the keenest expectation 
Will spend itself and fade into a dream. 

The things we want, acquired, lose half their 
value, 

And promised joys oft’ prove not what they 
seem. 

I know your tender heart is crushed and bleed¬ 
ing, 


[15] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Your spirit dampened by this cruel stroke, 
Coming so close upon your other troubles 
And finding you already ill beneath the yoke 
Of a great sorrow dealt by Hands, Almighty, 

A trial of your love, in trouble’s hour, 

Of One whose ways mysterious and mighty 
We needs accept as tokens of a power 
Supreme and infinite. 

And this same grief that comes from Heaven 
upon you, 

But shows the plainer to us, day by day, 

That God, in all His majesty and splendor, 

E ’er thinks of us, faint strugglers on Life ’s way, 
And wants us there, with Him, to live in glory, 
Partakers of a Better World’s pure pleasures, 
Else why the crosses sent to make us better, 

And stronger-minded, fit to share the treasures 
Of the spirit’s praising God in all His goodness 
And singing hymns of grand, harmonic measures. 
I know, dear one, these words have little in them 
To comfort you or soothe your saddened heart. 
The only solace you may garner from them 
Is in the loving care which they impart 
For one who feels for you in every struggle, 

And gladly would, if such could only be, 
Shoulder the cross which bears upon your frailty 


[16] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

And leave yon as I saw yon last, care-free; 

Be faithful, dear, and God will snrely comfort. 
Go to Him, often on the wings of prayer; 

From Him alone, can peace of mind environ, 
’Tis He alone, will every burden share. 

Once more, loved friend, be brave, be prayerful 
ever, 

Your little ones’ pure love will help you grow 
More patient, more resigned to Fate’s volition, 
And bye and bye you will have learned to know 
The treasure of a little child’s affection, 

Now write at length, and often to r— 

Your Jo.” 

I did not tell her of my indignation 
Toward him whose obstinate and wilful way 
Had brought this madd’ning grief to one whose 
nature 

Kind and loving, was unable in its weakness to 
defray 

The trials of life. 

I felt for him, big, strong, self-centered creature, 
A feeling, near in purport to contempt. 

To thus abandon one he had professed to love 
and cherish. 

I felt the man exempt 


[17] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Of those rare virtues which Kate needed most: 

A master to depend on, generous host, 

To all her frailties. 

When first her letter, full of love and pathos 
I read with mingled pity and chagrin, 

A firm resolve I made to write her my opinion, 
Of anyone whose selfish greed to win, 

Could so overcome him. 

But after I had yielded up to Somnus, 

Fair god who clears the over-burdened mind, 

I knew ’twere best, for friendship’s sake, to 
smother, 

Such words of censure as my soul might find 
As tributes to the man she chose to love. 

And so I wrote no words save those of pity, 
Knowing full well that Love is blind to faults, 
And friendship’s tie, once it is strained and 
shaken, 

Grows weaker ’til at last it rudely halts, 

And plighted hearts are sundered evermore. 


Two years Kate’s senior, most persons judged me 
five, 

So delicate and dainty and so much alive 
To social pleasures was she. 


[18] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Parties and the dance 

Made np a goodly portion of her life, but Chance 
Or Fate had made me vigorous and strong, 

The gay frivolities of life were like a song 
From some stray bird, or like a pretty flower, 
So fleeting seemed they to me, from the hour 
Of leaving school, almost, compelled 
To earn a livelihood. 

My parents, humble always, having naught of 
wealth, 

Had trained me early to depend on self. 

And so when Death, grim visor from Above, 
Heedless of moans from souls afull with love, 
Came like a thief in darkest hour of night, 

And took a father from us, all the might, 

Within my being, needs must be amassed, 

And all the care-free pleasures of the past 
Be buried, for my mother, never strong, now 
stricken sore 

With this new grief, I knew would evermore 
Be my constant care. 

To be a teacher long had been my aim 
And so when melancholic Autumn came, 

I found a solace in my work as such, 

And through my pedagogy kept in touch 
With child life and its countless little joys, 


[19] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Thus sharing in the love of all my girls and boys. 
Thus facing cares and toil with grim defiance, 
Each day I grew more firm in self-reliance, 
Whilst Kate, unburdened by a single care 
Seemed to me, like a blossom, frail and fair, 

To be protected from the faintest blast 
Of withering sorrow. 

The rare companionship between us two 
Evoked surprise among the ones who knew 
The difference ’twixt us both in taste and station, 
But the love we shared had no unsound founda¬ 
tion, 

Built in shallow sands of worldly commendation. 
The slightest shadow o’er her pathway cast, 

She came to me, relying first and last, 

On my superior strength and loving care, 
Knowing full well that I would gladly share 
Her every sorrow. 

And now when monster, Grief, 

Beal and rigid, came, in her belief, 

In my sincerest counsel and advice, 

She came and with her trust had paid the price 
Of years of loving friendship and kind care. 


My letter gone, I could do naught but wait, 


[20] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


And count the days ’til I should hear from Kate, 
And learn from her own writing how she bore 
The strain her faith had never borne before. 

I half expected she would write to say 
Her hero’s anger had all passed away 
And they were happy as two hearts could be 
With one they loved so near Eternity, 

And with the brother stricken full of pain, 
Feeling his loss ere Death had come to claim, 
And gather in his stern relentless arm 
The one whose love and virtue-prompted charm 
Had made his house a home and filled his days 
With peace and comfort. 


But moments grew apace, as moments will, 
Stretched into days, then weeks, and silence still; 
Four weeks I spent with anxious longing fraught, 
Impatient for a letter telling aught 
Of what my heart’s best friend was undergoing, 
Yet dreading such a letter, well nigh knowing 
The message it would bear would be of death, 
Remote from none, save by a single breath, 

Yet always seeming nearer one whose form 
Is spent with suffering. 

The father old 


[21] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


And feeble from long years of wretched'health, 
Had missed his winsome daughter and her wealth 
Of love, and so, had left the old home, though 
with tears, 

To spend with son and daughter, his declining 
years. 


Still days passed on. Then came a loving note 
To bear the tidings, Katherine darling, wrote. 
Before she found the heart to pen a letter, 

Full of grand and noble thoughts, yea, reading 
better, 

Than e’er had come from pen of hers before. 
How sorrow moulds the mind and fits the soul 
To grander things, and makes a perfect whole 
Of what was once but a defective brain, 

Lacking the cast it never can attain 
Save by the true-designing Hand of Love, 

Born not of earthly things, but in the great 
Above, 

Attaining birth, and by its softening power, 

So mellowing the heart that every hour 
It grows more plastic ’neath the chastening rod, 
Of sorrows great, and to the will of God, 
Becomes more pliant. 


[22] 



KATE, and Other Poems 

A letter followed then, from which I learned, 
That Rose had drifted to the Great Beyond 
As peacefully as Autumn’s day is turned 
To twilight. Not a fear nor care 
Disturbed her closing hours, 

So certain was she of the generous share 
Of Gerald’s grief which Kate would help to bear. 
Surrounded by the ones to her most dear, 

And knowing well the parting hour was nigh, 
Her hand sought that of Gerald, kneeling near, 
And with a feeble pressure did she try 
To speak her love and faith, then with a prayer 
But faintly murmured in an undertone, 

She closed her eyes, and loved ones standing 
there, 

Knew that the bridegroom, Death, had claimed 
his own. 

Beneath the rustic shade where, as a sweetheart, 
She first had dreamed and later on was wooed, 
They laid her down to rest beneath the cedars 
That she had loved, as she had wished they 
should. 


How lonesome seemed the house, how full of 
shadows j 


[23] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Turn where you might, some memory lingered 
there. 

The husband roamed the rooms as one demented 
And e’en the little boys seemed to miss the care 
Of the fond mother, ever full of pity 
For childish ills, and seeming ne’er so glad 
As when engaged in some new plan or labor 
Designed to please or educate the lad, 

So like the father, both in act and feature, 

A pleasing thought to her who gave him birth, 

So near akin to worship was her feeling 

For him whose generous heart and manly worth 

Were better known to her than any other. 


The father missed the old familiar faces; 

The home so long his haven now was gone, 

The forms he loved no longer filled their places 
And Gerald’s home seemed scarce a home to him, 
So Kate must try his last few days to cheer, 
Must help her brother bear his sorrow better, 
Must be a mother to the babies dear, 

Must put her own distress aside for duty, 

And by the household cares and labors new, 
Absolve herself from stern and vain repinings, 
Thus showing what a perfect faith can do. 


[24] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


She wrote again to tell me how she managed, 

And planned her work, and how she daily grew 
More fond of both her little orphaned charges, 
How Gerald’s sorrow opened np anew 
At every word the little boys would utter, 

In lonesome longing for the mother true. 

And then at last, she gave the news, depressing, 
That I detected long had filled her heart; 

The doctor had not called through all their 
troubles, 

And rumor had it that he soon would part 
From friends whose numbers were by no means 
few, 

To link his life with others strong and brave 
Whose swords were winning laurels for their 
country, 

Afar from home, across the ocean’s wave, 

In suffering Cuba. 

The war in which two nations plunged so quickly, 
Had just begun and with each coming day 
New companies were springing into being, 

Each anxious for a sharing in the fray. 

These volunteers, so eager and so lusty, 

Were representing, though without design, 

The best our country has of manly vigor, 

And mothers, wives and sweethearts must resign 


[25] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Themselves to thoughts of war and all its hor¬ 
rors. 


No wife, no mother grieved in anxious silence 
O’er him, who full of unjust indignation, 

Had given up his work so full of promise, 

And left his friends in wondering consternation. 
Ah, no, not wife’s nor mother’s tears were 
mingled, 

But left alone, no farewell word to cheer, 

The sweetheart, true, through every inattention, 
Would suffer on and wait from year to year, 

For one whose safety and aggrandizement, 

Were subjects of a daily — hourly prayer. 

His happiness would mean such satisfaction 
To her whose generous heart would ever wear 
As precious jewels, treasured ’bove all others, 
The words of love he once had planted there. 


As some volcanic mountain still for ages, 
Springs into action in a single night, 

So man, unknown, to Fame and all her glories, 
By some bold stroke, displaying valorous might, 
Leaps into public favor ; and her graces, 


[26] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Fame, fortune, future prospects, gleaming bright, 
Are his, nor can he stay the grand applause, 

Of press and public favor. 

By daring dash and dextrous exploitation, 
Lieutenant Hobson tried to block the bay, 

And Dewey, sailing swift from distant China, 
Performed his wondrous work and gained the 
day. 

Unheard of places , rose to public notice, 

In but a day, and gained a history’s page; 

El Caney, San Juan Hill, and Morro Castle, 

In isolation once, did now engage 
The best attention of a breathless world. 

But two short months the country waged its war¬ 
fare, 

When Spain, unable long to bear the stroke 
Of well-equipped battle-ship and soldier, 
Succumbed, and from her dream of victory woke, 
To find her reign in struggling Cuba over. 

The troops came home, the war talk ceased to 
interest, 

And quiet reigned once more on every hand. 
A peace as of a calm, cool day in Autumn 
Was brooding like a spirit o’er the land; 


[27] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


But he, for whom sweet prayers were daily 
offered, 

Remained, a stranger on a foreign shore. 

Nor word, nor sigh, came home to greet the 
waiting, 

True, e ’en through life, to death and evermore. 


The months rolled on. Three years had passed, 
And summer, with all her lustrous beauty bright 
and gay, 

Had come again to sprinkle Earth with gladness, 
And hide the barren boughs away from sight, 
’Mong verdant leaves. 

With Summer’s early coming, 

My heart had sung a song of love and joy, 

For he, the hero of my dreams and visions, 

Had come to find me waiting, glad but coy, 

At first, so sacred seemed the blessing, 

Of love from such a man, so strong, so good, 

So full of all that women like in lovers, 

Respect, and love, and masterful command. 
Sometimes, in silent wondering admiration 
Of brawny strength and lithesome execution, 

I wondered—could I bear to lose the treasure ? 
Could future years of work be restitution 


[28] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

For all that I should suffer by the loss? 

But thoughts like these were like a fleeting 
shadow 
In the room. 

So short lived were they, for my heart was happy 
And every bird seemed singing a sweet tune 
Of love. 

I scarce knew how to write to one whose 
romance 

Had ended in such direful variation, 

Of that which made my life so full of gladness, 
So fearful was I, of the laceration 
Which careless words might cause a tender heart, 
Still sore from a wound of slow recovery. 

And so without long dwelling on the joy 
That filled my soul with the discovery 
Of that which makes a restless life complete, 

I told her of the wedding we had planned for 
June, 

The trip abroad — a splendid honeymoon, 

The little cottage waiting our return 
When I, with loving ardor there should learn 
The art of being many things combined, 

Maid, cook, companion, seamstress, all defined, 
In one word — housewife. 


[29] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Just on the morning of onr wedding day, 

There came a greeting — a sweet note — to say 
She wished us peace — the best of Earthly treas¬ 
ure — 

Long years of happiness in fullest measure; 
That all were well and busy, too, as bees, 

Finding in work, the longest hours of ease 
For aching hearts. 


The trip we planned was through the sister 
states: 

Brazil, Peru and Ecuador. The Fates, 

It seemed, had chosen for us well, 

Since stopping for a while in Guayaquil, 

A place of trust and good remuneration 
Was offered to my husband. Consummation 
Of the plans was early made. We hurried back, 
To fetch the little mother and to pack 
The household things our little house would need. 


The people and their customs, queer and new, 
Were for a time a source of much delight, 
And with my husband and my mother true, 

I was content ’til the accustomed sight 


[30] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Grew common, as all pleasures surely wane, 
When lacking variation. When I fain 
Would have gone out in social life a fraction, 

I wakened to the fact that living thus 

In isolation, selfish satisfaction 

Had kept me stranger to the class of people 

With whom I might have cared to congregate, 

And I was lonesome for a woman friend. 

With poor excuse, I started in thus late 
To paying calls that should have long before 
Been made. 

I formed real friendships in the passing months 
And learned that anywhere one’s path may lay, 
There good and kindly people we may find, 

If we hut realize that our own way, 

While seeming best to us, may like all else, 

Be better for a change, and we mlist stay 
The word of criticism for the modes 
And habits of the people that we meet, 
Knowing full well that custom is a tyrant, 
And many a kindly heart with love doth beat 
Beneath a strangely rough and common mien. 


The social life of that fair, Spanish city 
Was at its height, and we were near-dragged in 


[31] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


By friends of Jim—the counsel in his office— 
And so we found ourselves parts in the din, 

Of party, dance and dinner. 

One evening in the home of Doctor Veraletto, 
We met a friend of his—a grave but pleasant 
man— 

Of courtly bearing, with hair snow white, 

And tossed in rare abandon 

And eyes so blue they did oppose the tan 

Of his strong face. 

He seemed to me a master among servants, 
Kind, e’en indulgent, but with such a “way,” 
As we of Hoosier birth do term that manner, 
Which charms, yet half repels, bespeaks 
“obey.” 

On many topics he was well conversant, 

And through the dinner hour he pleased the 
guests, 

With lively tale as well as broadened subject, 
And brought the feast to close with lively jests 
About his host’s reluctance to invite him, 
“Grim, crabbed, old recluse with no respect 
For folks of modern, civilized pretensions, 

But now,” he added, “will you not reflect 
That I have borne myself with such demeanor, 
That e’en my faultless host cannot object.” 


[32] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


So laughingly we rose, and on the wide veranda, 
Sought cooling breezes. 

There myself I found beside this clever man of 
many phases, 

Feeling so much at ease I did astound 
Myself, by my assumption of the converse— 
Yet an easy thing with one who listens well. 
While all the other guests indulged in dancing, 
We whiled the time with talking of the States. 
He seemed so glad to know I was so recent, 

A resident of Guayaquil. 

“Your Hoosier dialect, it quite abates 
That ‘stranger in a strange land’ feeling,” he 
declared. 

Of Hoosier birth himself, we therefore shared 
A love of fields and prairies green at home; 
Time passed so quickly, ere I felt the hour 
’Twas time for our adieux until the morrow 
When we should meet again as guests within 
The pleasant home of Jose Marlethin, 

My husband^s friend and business coadjutor. 


We grew to know him well, this Doctor Foster, 
Our guest he often was at close of day, 

And on an evening when in reminiscence, 


[33] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


I mentioned friends who live in Sante Fe, 

His fine face clouded as with pain supprest; 
He changed the subject quickly, so it seemed, 
Then left us early. 

I wondered at the turn his mood had taken, 
Questioned myself how I had given offense, 
And when I asked my husband his opinion, 

He said, “My dear, ’twas not at your expense. 
The Doctor’s change of spirit was apparent, 
But merely that your jolly little story 
Brought to his mind a mem’ry so intense 
As to disperse his happiness and spoil his day. 
I watched his face and such was my conclusion. 
’Twas just when you had mentioned Santa Fe, 
He grew distrait.” 

This set me thinking of Gerald and his babies, 
and of Kate. 

So down the garden path we walked in silence, 
My thoughts ran on until they whipt my con¬ 
science— 

How long it was since I had penned a letter 
To that dear friend who needed every solace— 
Brave little girl to bear so well her fetter, 
Tomorrow I should write to say I loved her 
In spite of my neglect—to tell her all 
About the happy life we led together— 


[34] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Our friend—our doctor friend, I would extol— 
What? Our Doctor? Her Doctor! 

The thought flashed through my brain, 

With such asperity, I clutched my husband’s 
arm, 

Swung him around and said, 

“Oh, Jim, the pain 

That I gave Doctor Foster— 

I would that I could render it again.” 

He stopped so short I knew he thought me 
crazy. 

“Why, Josephine—why Jo—what turn is this? 
To hear you say that you would hurt a mortal 
Must leave me think your mind has gone amiss. 
Or does my dull, slow grasping sense of humor 
Fail still to get the point of some keen joke? 
Whatever caused your most surprising out¬ 
burst ? 

One reason for such statement I invoke.” 

“Good man, your sense of humor be not duller 
Than is your sense of reasoning, I fear. 

Why should my talk of Santa Fe so casual, 
Cause our late guest to suddenly appear 
So distrait and so visibly disturbed? 


[35] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Why, Jim, he knows that we hold Kate most 
dear; 

His quick mind pieced together bits of converse, 
As soon as I but mentioned Santa Fe. 

And he has proved himself Kate’s vagrant 
lover, 

By the great haste in which he rushed away. 
Vain, selfish and opinionated creature, 

To crush a love and leave the wound to smart, 
I hope that Life’s consolidated bitter 
Is gnawing at this moment, in his heart.” 

“Tut, tut!” said Great-heart Jim, “you do but 
utter 

A superficial thing. 

You are too good, too nobly good, my love, 

To wish a fellow man such store of suffering. 
Now ask forgiveness from the Great Above.” 

“I do,” I cried, “of course, I did not mean it, 
But for the moment at the thought of Kate, 
The great respect that I have borne the doctor, 
Seemed turned into an overwhelming hate.” 

“Well, we shall see what we shall see tomorrow, 
(I do believe your reasoning aright.) 


[36] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


But meantime we must hope and pray for 
guidance, 

That we may not go groping in the night, 
And so lose both our friends and this big chance 
To readjust the lives of both.” 


A week passed ere again we saw the doctor 
A week with anxious, thoughtful planning 
fraught, 

So fearful were we lest a word, ill-chosen, 
Should bring our fondly cherished hopes to 
naught, 

And he, the rash, impetuous man of science, 
Should once again make wanderlust his friend, 
Leave work, bright prospects, and in grim de¬ 
fiance 

Leave not a clue that we might try to end 
The fancied grief that he so long had nurtured, 
A grief grown keener as with care ? twas nursed, 
And so make effort toward a reconcilement, 
With her whose very name had thus inversed 
His kind relations with her closest friends. 

Oh, vain self-pity—virtue so misplaced, 

A selfish thing to occupy a heart 

Too big and sound at first to be disgraced, 


[37] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


By making you a guest, you stand apart 
From pity of a fellow creature ’s woe, 

And with each thought of real or fancied 
grievance, 

And hope of retribution do you grow, 

Until your power, grossly demonstrated, 

Has dispossessed a throne by God created, 
With His .intent and purpose inculcated. 


On that first day that followed the detection, 
My Jim and I together, going o ’er 
Some plan—its fitness—or the least objection 
Decided it were wise to wire Kate. 

We’d share the risk of both our friends’ dis¬ 
pleasure 

To make ourselves the masters of their fate. 

“I need you badly. Can you come to me?” 

So read my message, nothing well defined, 

But circumstances fraught with misery 
Excused my hope that she would in it find 
Belief that some dire need had prompted me 
To urge her thus her friend’s advice or care 
Bring with all haste o’er land and over sea, 
And with me any, all my sorrows share. 


[ 38 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Reply came soon. “Leave Santa Fe tonight— 
Sail on the liner Lawrence. Be yon brave.” 
Yet filtered through with fear was my delight. 

What could we do, the troubled day to save, 

By causing an indefinite delay 
Of plans we felt quite sure were being made. 
What thing could we devise to do or say 
That might postpone the doctor’s parting day, 
Until our Kate arrived in Guayaquil ? 

We were nigh crazed such was our agitation 
In going over one scheme, then another, 

And each one filled we found in expurgation, 
With flaws which he must readily discover, 
Until at last we came to an agreement, 

That only on his friendship could we hope 
To hinge the faintest faith in any suasion 
That with his biased pique could ever cope. 

To urge him on the strength of these relations 
Delay departure and again see Kate. 

So Jim agreed to that day seek a meeting 
And learn, at least, if we had been too late 
In reaching our resolves. 

With expedition, 

He called for Doctor Foster at his office; 

But there to learn he had made disposition 


[ 39 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Of all professional affiliations 
Some days before. 

With business to curtail 
In Riobamba, he had hurried thither 
To close accounts and so be free to sail 
Upon the Presidente then in port. 

Jim hastened then to learn its date of sailing 
And what was his surprise you may conceive, 
To find the Lawrence booked for its arrival 
The very day the doctor’s boat would leave. 

The hours that followed tried our soul’s en¬ 
durance, 

For harrowed were we with that stress of fear, 
That we had done a thing that courted danger 
To friendships that we both had held so dear. 
I think sometimes Jim’s faith in our assuming 
This daring thing, was misplaced with regret; 
But not one word of this his kind lips uttered, 
But strove to ease my mind with doubts beset, 
By asking oft’ of Doctor Yeraletto 
For news of Doctor Foster. His return 
To Guayaquil we anxiously awaited 
That we might tell him frankly our concern 
For him and for our brave and steadfast friend. 
But no one knew when he should be expected; 


[ 40 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

His boat and date of sailing seemed to be 
The only things of which his friends were cer¬ 
tain, 

So we could only wait the Lord’s decree, 

With such of hope and courage as we shared. 


The day before that set for Kate’s arrival, 

I suffered from a headache, and a chill 
Brought on by “nerves” of which I’d thought 
I had none, 

Convinced dear Jim that I was really ill, 

And thus at his insistent way of urging, 

I kept that day in bed, and hoped that balm 
Of kindly sleep would bring relief and fitness 
To meet my friend, with my accustomed calm. 
But night came on without that longed for sur¬ 
cease, 

So I arose and opened wide the casement 
Upon a glorious sky. No moon appeared, 

But stars in myriads marked the day’s efface- 
ment, 

And shone and twinkled on that calm still night, 
As must their light have shone in far Judea, 

To guide the wandering shepherds to the Right, 


[ 41 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

I thought of three whose faith in God could 
lead them, 

Upon a mission fraught with many cares, 

To still push on and bide with perseverance, 
The time which should award their ardent 
prayers. 

I knelt and prayed, “Oh God, I am so tortured, 
So nyuch unable to know what is right 
To do in this stern test of love and friendship, 
The thought of being wrong—it does affright. 
It seems I cannot pray with that assurance 
That ever has been mine through all the years. 
Oh, God of peace, send calm upon my spirit, 
Give strength to me; allay my wanton fears. 
You know, dear Father, I would not give sorrow 
To her, whose life is patterned after You, 

Nor would I, now that I have thought more 
sanely, 

Give pain to him who loved that fairness too. 
Forgive me for my brief resentment toward 
him. 

What man can know the heart of fellow man? 
We are not all attuned with hearts harmonic, 
That were not ’ranged according to Your plan. 
So many lives have long been hard and selfish, 
To know, at last, what happiness can spring 


[ 42 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


From sacrifice and self-emancipation. 

From hardest steel we strike the clearest ring. 
I ask but this: that I may cause no suffering, 
And that my efforts may not go astray, 

But with your Guiding Hand to lead me on¬ 
ward, 

I thus may face with confidence the day.” 

So prayed I on, until at last a comfort 
Stole o’er my soul and through my aching 
brain. 

I was aroused by Jim’s strong arm uplifting, 
And by the words he uttered in refrain, 

“My dear—my dear—my dear—how very fool¬ 
ish 

To thus expose yourself to others’ ills; 
Already sick, you should have long been sleep¬ 
ing; 

You’re cold enough to start again with chills. 
Now rest you well with faith in what the mor¬ 
row 

Shall bring. And should that not be in accord 
With your idea, or mine, of what should happen, 
We still shall know that all things with the 
Lord 

As guiding factor, must be as they should be. 
The keenest disappointments I have known 


[ 43 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Have later borne me fruit in rare abundance. 
Remember that my knowing you my own, 

Was but the outcome of my greatest failure— 
Had I succeeded in financing plans 
To build the bridge my dreams had often 
builded, 

I should, before we met, have been in France. 
And so you see my grief was turned to glory— 
’Twas well by signal failure I was kept, 

In that old sleepy burg in Indiana.” 

He laughed and said, “Good-night,”— 

I turned and slept. 


The day brought to me much relief from suffer¬ 
ing, 

But left me weak and nervous from the strain 
Of mental anguish that had had its climax 
In hours spent in most intensive pain. 

Thus weak, I lay abed until the lunch hour— 
The boat should dock about the hour of two— 
And Jim should go alone to greet the coming 
Of her whom with our love we would imbue. 
While I was killing time at choice in dressing, 
I noticed that a pallor spread my face. 

E ’en just one day of such indisposition 


[ 44 ] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Seemed to have left its mark as ’twere the trace 
Of weeks of illness, 

And I was glad of this, although deceptive, 
Since it would hear me witness to a need 
Of her dear presence and her careful nursing. 
The moments passed with all too little speed 
Until the clock chimed two. 

I then arose— 

No longer able to endure the agony 
Of voiceless rooms—and went to look for those 
Whose coming I could scarcely now await 
And yet the time with fear was so augmented 
It seemed as hours I walked the little garden 
And wondered if our friend could have pre¬ 
vented 

A meeting any one who might have cared 
To urge upon him reasons why he should 
Stay on in Guayaquil where he was needed, 
And where his presence worked for so much 
good. 

I stooped to train a vine the wind had loosened, 
Thus for a moment, looking from the street, 

So that I started up in perturbation, 

As on the graveled path the sound of feet 
Was near me. 


[ 45 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Jim stood quite alone, but smiling 
With re-assurance that his news was good. 
“Adown yon street, a sight for eyes unhealthy 
Come lovers, two, as you have wished they 
should. ’ ’ 

He laughed. “Fair maid, and man, less fair, 
but happy, 

Forgot a third of what was first our party, 

And not too old as yet, nor dull of insight, 

To sense my welcome was not over hearty, 

I hastened on to one who loves my presence.” 
For just a moment I was quite unable 
To filter from his light words all the essence, 

Or import of the message they conveyed. 

I grasped his arm and shook him in excitement, 
Then, at the mystery my face betrayed, 

He hurried on to tell me how, awaiting 
The discharge from the boat, he had espied 
The doctor, near the gangway of the Lawrence, 
And scarcely breathed lest he should be de¬ 
scried, 

And, to avoid uncourted explanation, 

The doctor should make haste to move away. 
For, while Jim said he could not name a reason, 
He hoped most ardently to have him stay. 

In almost tense concern he watched the coming 


[ 46 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Of passengers, and at the same time tried 
To keep an eye upon that silent figure, 

That unsuspecting stood close at his side. 
With near affright, he saw Kate coming toward 
him, 

Then turned to watch that firm, but kindly face 
With wonder, as to how events should fashion 
Themselves, once he should certify a trace 
Of her whom he had tried to force from mem’ry. 
But scarcely time had Jim for rumination— 
The doctor saw her and his strong frame quiv¬ 
ered 

As from a lash. He turned with agitation, 
Went but a step or two, 

Whirled quickly around, 

And walked to meet her, who all unaware 
Of his dear presence, turned her head in seeking 
For sight of Jim whom she expected there. 

She would have passed the doctor by, unnoticed, 
Had not his glad cry reached her— 

“Kate, oh Kate!” 

That mellow voice she could not fail to cognize. 
She brushed her brow as to alleviate 
Some weird hallucination that had stopped her, 
But as she pressed on, he was at her side 


[ 47 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

With arms outstretched and face aglow with 
lovelight. 

As though the harrowing years were all belied, 
She yielded to the arms that closed about her 
In eagerness that would not be denied. 

A moment so they stood, then recollected 
That somewhere Jim must be awaiting Kate, 
And he, perceiving that they sought his pres¬ 
ence 

Went forward saying, “So a surrogate 

Have I in this, my very pleasant duty 

Of meeting, greeting and escorting home 

A lady fair. I do demand excuses 

Why I should yield a right I deemed my own. ’ ’ 

The doctor laughed, then suddenly grew earn¬ 
est. 

“From years of gloom and darkness as of night, 
Through which I groped nor even hoped for 
better, 

Mine eyes have opened on the morning light, 
And I have felt that blindness melt away 
Into the calm of an eternal day. 

Before you understand, Jim, I must tell you 
A sad, sweet story of some years now gone, 


[ 48 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

And shoulder, as I should, your rightful cen¬ 
sure 

That will not be the half you should pile on. 
But let us seek out she who waits the coming 
Of those she loves and does appreciate, 

I know your wife has long been most impatient 
For your return that she may welcome Kate.” 
Just then they came in sight, absorbed in con¬ 
verse, 

They did not see us until I had cried, 

“What sight is this that greets mine hungered 
optics ? 

Hail, vagrant swain, deliver at my side 
This precious charge that you have stolen from 
me. 

Think you my patience longer can abide?” 
Kate ran across the flagstone drive so lightly 
She seemed to me the same dear madcap maid, 
That I had known those years agone, and treas¬ 
ured, 

But now the tension that so long had stayed 
The more intense emotions, broke in tumult 
Of gushing tears and I bore her away 
To rest and gain again her strength and cour¬ 
age, 

To hear the things I scarce could wait to say. 


[ 49 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


She slept at last and I stole to the garden— 
Where Jim and Doctor Poster waited me— 

To hear again the tale of this strange meeting 
That God had wrought to set two spirits free. 
Again we heard from its inceptive being 
The story of the love between these two, 

And of the grievous time that saw its thwarting 
When stubborn man refused another’s view. 
And all these years he still had felt injustice 
Had Katherine done him in her pledge to Kose, 
Although a love that would not be sequestered, 
Had fought the isolation that he chose. 

‘ 4 When I knew that you were friends of Kate 
and Gerald, 

I dared not stay. That fear of some day meet¬ 
ing— 

Howe’er remote the chances might appear— 
With her whom I believed had cruelly wronged 
me, 

Would soon or late have made my living here 
A constant harry. So I closed an offer 
That long before had come from friends in 
Irving 

To join them in a student’s year in Prance. 


[ 50 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

If miracle it were, ’twas Kate’s deserving 
For years of faith and willing sacrifice. 

“ Today the first glimpse of those loved features 
Broke all the shackles of a selfish mind 
And something harsh and galling that had 
bound me, 

Seemed rolled away and o’er me stole a kind 
And generous attitude to those about me. 

I realized that she to whom belong 

Those lips so kind and eyes so fair and guiltless, 

In choice of purposes could not be wrong. 

This reconstruction—may I call it so?— 

Of dreams that my unworthiness laid low 
Is such a sweet thing, yet so deeply sad 
That now when all my senses should be glad, 

I seem to how to grief as ne’er before, 

And, counting my offenses o’er and o’er, 

I know that what I long for must not be, 

For ’twere not right that Kate should waste on 
me, 

All undeserving, from my dire transgressing, 
The love a better man might count a blessing.” 

“Foolish man,” I cried, “you’d he renewing 
The heartaches and the sorrows of the past 


[ 51 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

To take an attitude like that. She feels—I 
know it— 

That she has come into her own at last. 
Forgiveness is the basic part of loving— 

Then, if at an expression of regret, 

And humble promise to make reparation, 

She be not ready to forgive—forget— 

She is not what I knew and loved in childhood. 
So sure am I that she has not changed thus 
That I entreat you not again to wound 
A heart so long held servant to her willing 
Now bursting with this happiness, new-found.” 

Just then a door opened and we started 
To see Kate coming toward us o’er the lawn, 
Her hair, loose coiled, like waves of burnished 
copper, 

Her eyes aglow with pleasure, and upon 
Her cheek the glow of freshly sweet rose petals. 
Her dress was white, and gay with frills and 
laces, 

The only touch of color that she wore, 

A lovely string of amber beads with spaces 
Of fine gold chain between each bead, and bear¬ 
ing 


[ 52 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

A large gold locket. This, I later learned 
Had be£n his gift upon their pledge of love. 

Fair as of yore, yet with a bearing earned 
By years of great self-sacrifice and care, 

For those about her—a sweet maturity 
That added to her charm and made more fair 
This friend of mine. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Jo, forgive me—I had not till now 
Observed how ill you are—your face is gray. 
Why did you not send for me at the first 
Of your indisposition—let me pay 
In some small measure my great debt of love. 
’Tis strange your message came just at a time 
When I was contemplating such -a trip. 

I had not written less my plans miscarry; 

But I had even started to equip 
Myself for travel, for events had shaped 
Themselves, that I might call my time my own 
And first of any pleasure to be courted, 

Must be a visit with you in your home. 

Rose had an older sister—Mrs. Mathew— 
Whose husband died some time in early fall 
And left her with no closer ties of kindred 
Than Rose’s boys. None other could she call 


[ 53 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


Upon for sympathy and for a hope of comfort. 
So Gerald had her come to share their nest, 
Thus giving me a chance to leave my dear ones 
And slip away for just a little rest. 

So I had dreamed a dream of many pleasures 
That you and I should share as once we did, 
When arm in arm we wandered o’er the mea¬ 
dows 

Of Indiana. Yet, I could not rid 
Myself of fear that Father so should miss me — 
He has so grieved for old friends that he left— 
But when your message came he quickly urged 
me 

Come to you even tho’ he be bereft 
Of much that helps him bear his lonely mo¬ 
ments. 


“The boys have grown into my life so closely 
I dreaded leaving them. Their fond affection 
Has been to me a source of richest blessing— 
A precious gift that soon became protection 
Against a tendency to pity self. 

“But I was sure that Grace—their Auntie 
Mathew— 


[ 54 ] 



KATE, and Other Poems 


Would welcome all the care and its reward, 
And find in it a comforting diversion 
As I had found it in the first discord 
That ever marred a life with purpose vain. 

To leave her in entire charge would please her, 
And take away the added sense of pain 
At being left dependent, as it were. 

“So here I am,” she ended, laughing lightly, 
“All ready for the treat of bringing back 
The roses to your cheeks by careful nursing, 
And coaxing by my culinary knack 
An appetite that soon will need repressing.” 

The while she talked, the doctor sat unmoving, 
His head dropped low, face resting in his hands, 
So like a child, I spoke to him reproving 
His gloomy aspect in a time of cheer. 

He raised his head and looked, with eyes of 
sorrow, 

At Kate, then turned to me and sadly said, 

‘ ‘ To think upon my wrongs is but to borrow 
The keenest grief. I can’t recall the power 
To bear a tithe of all she bore so bravely, 

By my regret, expressed at this late hour, 


[55] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


And in the years to come if I could carry 
All burdens, leaving her without a care, 

I still should feel forever sharp compunction, 
And, sharing in her love, should feel unfair. 

I know it seems a farcial thing to mention 
Unfairness, in the face of all the grief 
That bears true witness to my gross injustice. 
It would be hard to leave with you belief 
That I have always been of kindly judgment 
And fairest treatment to a fellow man 
Abhorring hardness as a thing unfitting 
With Christian manhood, which I hope I can 
Without deception delegate myself. 

“For years, alone, and given but to study 
I had grown lonely as one well could be 
Until Kate came to fill my life so amply 
That e’en my soul lived in futurity, 

And all my thoughts were centered on that 
future 

That she would share with me, and dreams of 
home — 

A cozy little place where her dear presence 
Would anchor me from all desire to roam, 
Seemed all the goal that I could labor for. 

When Kate stood firm upon her brave decision 


[56] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

It seemed I could not bear that she, so dear, 
Should sacrifice herself and spoil my vision 
Of such a home as we had planned to rear. 

I think I was insane from my bereavement, 

And all these years that since have dragged 
away, 

I would not let myself a single moment 
Reflect upon the past, but lived each day 
Unto itself, nor dreamed that such reaction 
Should come upon me with but one fleet glance 
Of her whose will I now accept, unquestioned, 

E ’en it be banishment without a chance 
At retribution. 

But, bless her kindly heart, she spoke forgiveness 
At my first asking for it when we met 
This morning on the pier — 

Jim bears me witness — 

And that sweet moment I can ne’er forget.” 

He raised his eyes to Kate with love-light plead¬ 
ing. 

She met his look with eyes that hope had bright¬ 
ened 

And came to stand beside him, stroking lightly 
The wealth of hair that grief had thoro’ly 
whitened. 


[57] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

“Dear one, my heart does treasure your confes¬ 
sion 

As great atonement for your one transgression. 
Love were not love that knows not full forgiving, 
And suffering fits us for a fuller living 
When joys do come. 

My heart holds nothing bitter. 

I hope the years have made me but the fitter, 

To bear the lesser griefs that time may carry 
With fortitude. 

So short a time we tarry 

In this fair world—oh, much too short, indeed— 
To spoil a single day by sowing seed 
Of malice in the heart or harboring there 
Resentment of the sorrows and the care 
That we may know. 

God fills each day 

With too much good, and brightens up the way 
With too much love for us to e’er forget 
To thank Him, and to feel a keen regret 
For loss of sweets that we might well have had, 
Had not our own self-pity kept us sad, 

And missing much that could have made us glad. 
I do forgive (the little need there be), 

The old love lives in sweet entirety. 


[58] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


‘ 1 1 found so much to fill my life and heart ■— 
Dear baby-love, that played so rich a part 
In helping me — an aged father’s care — 

A brother’s tender love in which to share. 
But those were not enough to fill the void 
That entered when my duty there destroyed 
The hope of home and love — my very own! 

But one sweet thought, though it had stood alone, 
Gave satisfaction; just that I had given 
Rose comfort, in the hours when she was driven 
By mother-love, to ask that care of me 
For those she loved. 

Her rare simplicity 

Had kept her ignorant of that affection 
Which promised me so much of sweet protection. 
Yes, I am glad, indeed, that I cap say 
She gave me trust which I did not betray. ’ ’ 

Her lover’s eyes had overflowed with tears 
As she had spoken of the trying years 
That she had spent in service freely given, 

And of the peace, for which she so had striven, 
That did reward acceptance of a duty, 

And gave her face those kindly lines of beauty. 
He spoke at last, “Love made me selfish, — 

God above must know how much I needed love •— 


[59] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


And selfishness in turn, made my heart hard. 

I’d give my life, thus giving, could I prove 
How much I love you still and what remorse 
Tortures my soul. 

Kate, could you give your life 
Into the keeping of so hard a man? 

Can you forgive enough to be my wife, 

And give me trust sufficient to believe 
That in the future years I shall atone, 

And from that darksome past at last retrieve 

Some nobleness of spirit ? To condone 

My faults, I do not ask nor e’en expect of you, 

But only to allow my sins depart 

Into the dark oblivion of the past 

And let me share a corner of your heart. 

I do not ask that you should come to me 
In this far place and leave your loved ones there; 
But we shall go to them and make a home 
Which they must feel a welcome e’er to share. 
It was not that I did not love the boys r— 

For I have ever loved a little child — 

But that I felt the task too hard for you, 

That with the burden of a home thus piled 
Upon your shoulders, I should be deprived 
Of your companionship. 

I want the boys 


[60] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

To make their home with us and to allow 
That I should share with you, the cares and joys 
Of raising them. ’ ’ 

Here, Kate broke in to say 

The boys would no longer need her care, 

With Mrs. Mathew there to keep the home, 

And that no thought would Gerald ever bear, 
Of having them elsewhere than in the home with 
him, 

But that her home must ever be her father’s, 
Until the kindly hand of Sleep Eternal 
Had called him in from worldly cares and 
bothers 

To where the gentle wife, these long years wait¬ 
ing, 

And friends gone on before would sweetly greet 
him 

And all the loneliness of these late years 
Would fall away as they should come to meet 
him. 


‘ ‘ Then, Kate, my own beloved, you do mean 
That all the griefs and burdens stretched between 
Those happy days of yore and this fair day 
Have been forgiven freely — washed away 


[61] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


In the great anguish of my deep regret, 

And that you love me still and trust me yet. 

May I then, dare to hope the rest of life 

Will be thrice blest—that you will be my wife?” 

“Would I not be most foolish,” she replied, 

‘ ‘ To turn away, when I have spent the years 
In longings, vain, and fraught with many tears, 
For this dear hour that brings you back to me 
To be mine own unto Eternity? 

I welcome your dear words of love today, 

As did I in the time long passed away. 

For my own peace, and for your dearer sake, 

I give you pledge that I will gladly take 
You back again, and bury deep the strife 
Of yesterdays — I hope to be your wife.” 

Jim drew my arm through his as he proposed 
That we should think of dinner. 

Eager arms enclosed 

About her, and her precious head reposed 
In trust upon his breast. 


[62] 


Do You Recall? 



AYE yon seen a place where a long, steep 
hill 


Leads down to a bridge, with a rustic air? 
Have you seen the winding stream flow by, 
Hedged in by the willows that flourished 
there ? 

Have you heard the rumbling train rush on— 
On past the station-house, grim and lone? 
Have you seen the moonlight steal and play 
Through the neighboring fields, with shrubs 
o’ergrown? 


If you’ve seen all these you will understand 
How, long ago on a summer’s eve’, 

The lads and lassies, when work was over, 
Would wander there and stop to breathe 
The balmy fragrance of willow and elm, 

That was wafted by on the quiet breeze, 
Swept down the vale of the placid stream 
That wound its way through the maze of 
trees. 


[ 63 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

No wholesome game with its rustic charm, 

No new-formed plan of gay contest, 

But found support of the heartiest kind 
Prom the laughing girl who led the rest 
Of that merry crowd, once gathered there— 
Light-hearted girls and the bashful boys, 

All, all, care-free as the zephyr calm 

That carried naught but a wealth of joys. 

Say, friend, have you seen that dark-eyed lad 
With the long dark hair in abundant masses? 
Have you seen those broad, square shoulders 
rear 

In a manly pride that pleased the lasses ? 

Have you seen the girl with the curling hair, 
That crept from the bow that held in place, 
And hung in careless ringlets ’round 
A plain but an ever smiling face ? 

Did you see that glance from the keen dark eye ? 

Did you see the smile on the maiden lent? 
Did you hear the word, low-spoken, clear? 

Did you hear her breathe a glad assent ? 

Then you saw the other boys and girls 

Stroll noisily down where the path inclined, 
And you saw those two still loiter where 
The hearts of each other they first divined. 


[ 64 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Then you mind that walk through the moon¬ 
light dim, 

Across the bridge, up the long steep hill, 

And you fain recall the village bell 

As its peals break forth on the evening still. 
Do you fancy now you can see the place 
Where these two parted, the first and last ? 
Do you think you could fancy if you tried 
Those pledges of friendship, firm and fast? 

Do you think you can call to mind that letter? 

’Twas full of the beautiful things of youth. 
And the letter that raced in swift reply, 

Did you note it was full of contented truth ? 
Did you know ’twas the lad that broke the chain 
And failed to write as the days went by? 
And the maiden waited and waited in vain 
For the mail that would bring reply. 

Did you hear of the years that he spent abroad 
And the honors he gained in his work pro¬ 
found ? 

Did you know how success crowned all his aims 
As he mounted Fame’s ladder, round by 
round ? 

Say, friend, have you guessed that with all his 
glory, 


[ 65 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


With all the praise of a critic world, 

With all the court of the fashioned people, 

With every banner of pomp unfurled, 

A memory lingered and would not fade 
Of her who had laughed and jested there, 
Long years ago when hearts were young, 

And minds were free from a thought of care ? 
A great strong lad shared that mem’ry too; 

It seemed ’twas a stranger he once had 
known— 

Was the girl there yet? Was she still unwed? 
Ah, scarcely so, for the years had flown. 

Did you hear how once when the day had 
flown— 

’Twas long years after, and he was sad— 
He sat alone where the starlight gleamed, 

And his thoughts went back to the brown¬ 
eyed lad, 

And the merry group of rustic youth, 

The brown old bridge, the calm stream’s purl, 
The glimmering light from the semaphore, 
The quaint old village, the brown-haired girl? 

Did you read the letter he wrote that night? 

It came from a heart o’er-full with love 


[ 66 ] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


For the things which he could not understand— 
For his fellow-men, for his God above. 

He questioned why, in that peaceful calm, 

His thoughts had turned to the long ago 
With its phantoms bright and bearing peace, 
But he couldn’t define what he did not know. 


[67] 


Peace 


W EARY, disheartened and care-worn, 

I longed for a place of rest, 

As I wandered the streets of a city 
Alive with the zeal and the zest 
Of mercurial bustle and striving, 

Scorched dry from the evening’s sun’s ray, 
Whose usually friendly brightness 
But heightened my sorrow that day. 

I strolled up a street where a church stood— 
An edifice humble and small, 

With its cross held erect and commanding, 

As if ’twere no burden at all. 

And I thought, as my heart filled with longing, 
How testy I was in my losses, 

And I wished for the Grace to be kindly, 

And to stand up erect ’neath my crosses. 

My steps turned mechanically forward; 

I passed up the steps to the door 
Ajar with a welcoming aspect— 


[68] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Ah, there was the box ‘‘For the poor.” 

This coin in my hand held so lightly, 

May feed some poor creature for days, 

And the prayer of a suffering brother 
May lighten my burdensome ways. 

At the foot of the crucified Savior, 

I knelt, and in humble submission 
Sent up from my heart, overflowing, 

A prayer full of ardent petition 
For Grace to be brave in Life’s battles 
To fight ’gainst the tempter called Pride 
And to feel in each grief and each struggle, 
The hand of the Master who died, 

That His loved ones who waited His calling 
Might share in the joys of His throne, 

And that He, when the summons were given, 
Might gather them in for His own. 

As I gazed with eyes moistened by sorrow 
At the head with sharp thorns closely 
crowned, 

I felt as grand benediction had fallen 
And circled me ’round. 

I rose with heart gladdened and strengthened 
For trials that were hovering near, 


[69] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

And I knew why the penitent sinner 
Had breathed out his life without fear. 

For a calm not of earthly assurance 
Had entered and filled all my soul, 

And the light of a Heavenly countenance 
Illumined my path to the goal. 

Down the street once so lonely and foreign, 
With steps lighter far than before, 

I passed and in each busy creature, 

I saw not the stranger of yore, 

But a fellow-companion in duty, 

Whose heart was in touch with my own, 
And the smile which was late but a mock’ry 
To a bright inner picture had grown. 

’Tis a wonderful thing when the heart aches 
O’er griefs which seem too great to bear, 
And the best that is in us seems dormant, 

And life seems o’er flowing with care, 

To turn for a moment from sorrow and pain 
To a vision of Love with harsh thorns ’mid 
the flowers, 

And watch for the cross which some tired 
brother bears 

To see there are troubles far greater than 
ours. 


[70] 


Thanks 


T EARS are fountains of the Spirit, 
Born of truth and shed for Love. 
And they soothe the heated passion 
Like the cooing of the dove. 

Like the raindrops, fresh from Heaven, 
Do they moisten foolish fears, 

Carry off the bitter anguish— 

Oh, we thank Thee, Lord, for tears. 

Hearts that beat in fond remembrance, 
Steady, constant, ever true, 

Surge with love like God has given, 
Only to a chosen few. 

As the child, in love’s affection, 

When from sleep, impulsive, starts, 
Flings its little arms around you— 
Lord, we thank Thee for true hearts. 

Ambition moves the wheels of progress, 
Makes this world to seethe with life; 
Fills each heart with expectation, 


[71] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


With firm purpose makes it rife. 

Brings the soul to God in Heaven, 

On the wings of love’s petition; 

Fans to life the smouldering embers— 
Lord, we thank Thee for ambition. 

Nature, fair and proud in splendor 
As she came from God’s right hand, 
Teaches more by far, than science; 

Fills the hungry heart’s demand. 

Kind and true and never changing, 

Giving lovers but one rule, 

Love and faith and true devotion— 

We thank Thee, Lord, for Nature’s school. 

Knowledge lends a power to Nature. 

God revealed unto man’s mind 
Means of furthering his progress; 

Lent him instinct, more refined 
By laws of study, and developed 
By bereavement; evoluted by success 
Of ancestry—Lord, we thank Thee 
For the knowledge we possess. 

Sympathy, from love upspringing, 

Gives to souls with care awrack, 


[72] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

Strength to better bear their sorrows, 
From their sad thoughts brings them hack 
To the earthly joys that greet them 
In the friends from whom is heard 
Word of cheer—oh, Lord, we thank Thee 
For a sympathetic word. 


[73] 


The Teacher 

H ER hair was straight and her face was 
plain, 

Her life was a common story; 

She had never done a single thing 
To carve out a name in glory. 

Her nose was tilted, her eyes were brown, 
And her days were full of care; 

She had known no pleasure since early youth, 
Save the burdens of others to share. 

Her hands were brown but soft and light, 

Her mouth was a trifle large; 

The only ones who its beauty knew 
Were the little ones in her charge. 

Sometimes the spirit of mutiny rose 
And her heart grew heavy and sore; 

“Must I toil on without reward 
Of love, when I ask no more? 


[74] 


KATE, and Other Poems 


“Must I be the one to struggle alone? 

I am tired of a strenuous life; 

I want a home to fill my heart, 

To be loved as a treasured wife. 


“Must I be the one to spend my life 
In a sphere with toiling fraught?” 

But the voice of God from Heaven came 
And breathed, “Why not—why not?” 


“My life was a life of sorrow, 

I suffered death for sin; 

Are you better than I, my daughter, 
Have you no reward to win? 


“Go now, and shirk not thy duty, 

Toil on, though thy pleasures be few; 
Remember each day is a page of life; 
Child, I was a teacher, too. 


“Each tender word of compassionate love 
To these brave little soldiers of mine, 

Will add to thy glory before the great Throne, 
And like stars in thy crown will they shine.” 


[75] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

She turns from her dream to her duty again, 
And takes up the burden of teaching once 
more; 

She thrusts from her mind those fond visions of 
home, 

And plods on with love, and with care, as 
before. 

Ah, when rest to this shepherdess comes at last, 
And the brown hands are folded from view, 

She will hear from a harp of melodious chord, 
“Child, I was a teacher, too.” 


[76] 


Which? 


E MMA, meek and lovely, madonna-like in 
grace, 

Fair and strong, no thought save those of love; 
Apart from things not born of Heaven above, 
Wearing a smile like halo ’round her face. 

Julia, strong-minded, of all independent, 
Decided, determined, no changing her view; 
Firm, even to sternness, yet constant and true, 
In hatred as love equipoised and resplendent. 

Angeline, graceful and queenly of bearing, 
Grand to behold and elaborately dressed, 
Bright like the noon-day and fond of all rest; 
Cares of tired mother and friend never sharing. 

Maud, like a doll, with her tresses of golden, 
Pink baby face and blue eyes besetting; 
Clinging and loving when near, but forgetting, 
And fancying new friends instead of the olden. 


[77] 



KATE, and Other Poems 

Catherine, brown-haired, with eyes full of sad¬ 
ness, 

Grieving in silence o’er each little care 

By which friends are burdened and willing to 
share 

With each lowly creature a heart full of glad¬ 
ness. 


[78] 


Just One 


I N conning o’er the faces and the forms I 
sadly miss, 

In thinking of the days gone by, when all was 
heedless bliss, 

The words that I remember were said in loving 
vein, 

The music that has soothed me with its euphe¬ 
mistic strain, 

The smile that fondly lingers through the ever 
length ’ning years, 

The touch that seemed as magic to vanquish 
foolish fears— 

I put them all together just to find when that 
is done, 

That the whole of all those blessings was con¬ 
centered in Just One. 

Idly dreaming of the future with its castles 
reared in Spain, 

And the great things ready, waiting, at the 
turning of the lane, 


[79] 


KATE, and Other Poems 

All the horde of worldly treasure—wealth, suc¬ 
cess, renown and fame, 

Help to fellowman accomplished, blessings 
called upon my name, 

Peace and quiet, rest and comfort, after days 
of tiring care, 

Grief and sorrow all forgotten; earthly burdens 
—none to bear, 

Dreaming Til at last I waken to reflect my 
thoughts have run, 

Down the path of idle fancy, to concenter in 
Just One. 

Tasks await a living present, full of action, full 
of strife, 

Past forgotten, future buried in the grave im¬ 
port of life, 

Paths beset with countless duties to be met and 
mastered well, 

Hearts to comfort, wounds for dressing, tales 
of love again to tell, 

Griefs to grapple, lives to rescue, from the grim 
and gaunt despair, 

Wrongs to right, keen hurts to pardon, injuries 
I need repair, 


[80] 


KATE, and Oilier Poems 

These were easier done—I know it, let it be 
impugned by none— 

When the goad to stronger effort is concentered 
in Just One. 

Summing up life’s aims, achievements, hopes 
and fears, rejoicings, woe, 

All the feelings, blithe or bitter, that the human 
mind may know, 

I have found where’er I wander, lordly palace, 
humble cot, 

That no heart is wholly selfish, self aggrandize¬ 
ment is not 

That which feeds the fires of feeling, breeds in¬ 
centive strong to do 

Worthy things in the great masses, retrogres¬ 
sion in the few; 

Every being’s aspiration ’til the course of life 
is run— 

Though the friends may number legion—is con¬ 
centered in Just One. 


[81] 


A Toast 

(Given at a meeting of “The Leap-year Club”) 


S EVEN saucy spinsters, 
Friday, foul or fair. 
Mean, marauding, mankind’s 
Receptions rarely rare. 
Gossip given “Go-by,” 
Drabble-drawing, drub! 
Friendly fellow-feeling, 

THE LEAP-YEAR CLUB. 


[82] 


A Toast on Cheese 

(By Request) 


S HERMANY vas here alretty 

Mit a taste for toast on sheese, 
Which vas goot as der limberger, 

Mit the honey from der pees, 

And der honey from der red lips 
Of der maid of “Highland Fling” 
And der maid of “Dyke nnd vater” 
Which der winds of Holland bring. 
But der best vat ish of dishes— 

As der Sherman one egrees— 

Yas der sauer-kraut und veenie, 

Und der goot limberger sheese. 


[83] 


A Toast on “Dates’* 

(By Request) 

A S I’ve been told, dates grow on trees, 
Some place in tropic climes, 

And flourish there through all the year, 
Just picked at stated times. 

But dates I’ve know were grown right here, 
Results of kindly Fate; 

And these I like the best of all, 

Here’s to the Iowa date! 


[84] 



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